


a thousand small acts of service

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [142]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:09:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: While rummaging about in the Laird's room, Jamie discovers a therapeutic letter that Claire has written to Frank. She tries to explain what she feels for Jamie and why she made the choice she did.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [142]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/345047
Comments: 13
Kudos: 100





	a thousand small acts of service

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/619193500467183616/while-rummaging-about-in-the-lairds-room-jamie) on tumblr

_May 10, 1745_

It was rare for Jamie to be upstairs in the main house so early in the afternoon. But after taking a tumble in the mud at the far field, and dropping his sodden shirt into the pile awaiting Mistress Crook’s laundry kettle in the dooryard - he just needed a quick trip to fetch a fresh shirt.

Somehow her scent always permeated their bedroom - even with the window cracked open, welcoming the fresh spring breeze. Quickly Jamie pulled open the chest of drawers that they shared, and shrugged into a fresh shirt. As he tucked the shirt into his kilt, the wind rustled two loose sheets of paper on the table before the mirror.

That was odd - there certainly hadn’t been anything on that small table this morning, as he and Claire had dressed to greet the new day.

Brows furrowed, he picked up the sheets.

Mother Hildegarde’s spare script crawled across one page - ah, this must be the letter Claire had received from her yesterday.

And on the other sheet, filled with Claire’s own writing, appeared to be the first three paragraphs of a reply - 

_I swore to you in that church that I would love, honor, and cherish you, forsaking all others, for as long as we both should live. I meant those words when I said them. I think you did, too._

_I don’t know if I meant those words when I said them to Jamie. I know now that he meant them with all of his heart, even if my heart was not ready or willing to accept them. But I do know, Frank, that there is much more to a marriage than words said to each other in a church. Marriage is a thousand small acts of service that put those words into practice. Both people do so, willingly, acting from a wellspring of unconditional love for one another. It is selfless. It is silent._

_It is what Jamie and I have together, and I will not tempt God or Fate by even considering a life with you in it - now that I know what it truly means to love and be loved, to honor and be honored, to cherish and be cherished. Believe what you will about what happened to me. Know that it’s not my choice to come back._

Jamie let out a shaky breath. Mind racing with a thousand disconnected thoughts.

—

She was where Jenny had said she’d be - leaning against the ancient broch, stripping leaves from a pile of some unidentifiable plants.

Claire’s face lit up at the sight of him. “Aren’t you supposed to be mending fences today?”

He bent to kiss her, warm and soft, and settled beside her against the cold stone wall. “A man cannae stop his work to spend time wi’ his wife, then?”

She hesitated, just for a fraction of a second - but he noticed. Of course he noticed.

“I did promise you honesty, Claire. I came to tell ye something. I dinna ken how ye will react to it. But I cannae keep it from you.”

Claire set down the plants and settled her hands in her lap, turning to look straight at him. “You’re scaring me.”

He sighed. “I was in our bedroom just now. And I saw your letter.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling so very tired.

“Ye dinnae need to say anything, Claire. But I wanted you to know. I - I can talk about it wi’ ye, if ye like. Or no’. It’s your decision.”

She heaved a deep sigh. “Today would have been our tenth wedding anniversary. I haven’t thought about him in so long - and all of a sudden today…”

Her hand flexed into a fist. Gently he reached to cover it with his own.

“I understand. I ken what it is to have something come to your mind when ye least expect it.”

She relaxed her hand, and he laced his fingers through hers.

“There is a part of me that will always feel…guilt…that I chose a life with you, when I could have chosen a life with him.”

“What we have is a gift from God, _mo nighean donn,”_ he whispered, watching the emotions crest on her face. “Ye cannae throw that away.”

“I threw Frank away,” she retorted, whispering.

“You did not. Look at me, please.”

She did - eyes swimming with tears.

“I will bring you to the stones today, if that’s truly what you wish. I - I know that a life here, wi’ me, was not something you had ever planned. But God help me, Claire - I will do anything I need to do, every day, for the rest of my life, to prove to you that you made the right choice.”

She swallowed. Raised her free hand to cup his cheek.

“ _Mo chridhe_ ,” she whispered, thumbing away his tears, bending to kiss him.

“I choose you,” she promised against his lips. 

He gathered her so close against him. “I love you,” he rasped, knowing she knew how much he meant it.


End file.
